neural reflexes
by i m a g i n e dream b e
Summary: Holding her hand, he felt comfortable and warm. Now, as he held her weakening body, he felt cold…shattered. 10/Rose, eventual fluff, T cause I'm paranoid, R&R!


**Reviews=Love**

Red, red, red. It was spreading everywhere, tainting gold and peach and blue. Maybe roses were sometimes red, but not this one. Not his Rose.

The Doctor hefted Rose onto his shoulder, shaking in grief and fear and shock. She couldn't leave him now. He had so much more to show her. Barcelona. The Triplicated Moon of Sansh. The birthplace of the Shytrich.

They had been to beautiful worlds, where the stars were golden and quite close to home. Rose and he had stared at the stars, watching them colliding, and she held his hand patiently as he blabbered on about stars in the universe. The atmosphere, he had proclaimed, was a filmy sort of ionic shell, making the sky red and the stars gold.

Holding her hand, he felt comfortable and warm. Now, as he held her weakening body, he felt cold… shattered.

Even the Ice Planet of Dreey had been warmer than this, with Rose in his arms and all of time to pass, instead of a few precious seconds.

Kicking open the last door, he barreled towards the TARDIS. Sensing his urgency, she opened when he was ten feet away, starting her engines at an alarming rate.

Rose's eyes fluttered open, and he saw tears.

"Don't cry," he said gently and yet, an aggressive sort of tone colored his words. Losing her was not an option. He would beg, and plead, and order, and demand all at the same time, just to keep her erratic heart pumping just a little more, just a little more.

"Doctor—" Her broken voice stung his hearts and his eyes, and he took a deep breath, plunging on towards the medbay. "What— what happened?"

"Rose. My Rose." He whispered sadly. "Why are you so stupid and brave and beautiful and fragile?"

She smiled tiredly. "Because I'm me?"

The Doctor laughed, but there was a horrible sparkle in his eyes that was quickly turning into tears. "You stopped a harpoon from hitting me, Rose. A poisoned harpoon." She opened her mouth, but he covered it with his finger, kicking open the doors to his miniature emergency room. "I would have regenerated, Rose. It would have been alright."

"You would have been in pain—"

"_This_ is pain," he said furiously. "This is heart wrenching, tear-jerking _pain_. And you better not die, because I need you much more than this body and a few seconds of comfort."

"I'll try my best, honest," she sighed, her eyelids drooping, and he lay her down on a bed, working quickly with a couple of tools.

He worked hard, cleaning the wounds, extracting the poison and the sharp remains of the harsh metal blade, and sewing her skin back together. Finally, he was done, and, upon checking her heartbeat, sighed in relief.

She was asleep now, her hair over her face, and he brushed it away gently. Her watch ticked meaninglessly— how could such a mere thing know where in the time vortex they were, let alone count by the times they used in other galaxies? But right now, it was ticking away, counting the beats her heart had left. She wouldn't die now, not if he could help it, but what if she did another day? What if she never knew, never understood how he felt?

What if Rose Tyler's heart stopped beating before she knew she owned two more?

The Doctor closed his eyes, pondering. Was it worth distancing himself if he loved her all the same? He would always love her, whether he told her or not; the pain of losing her would always be great. The question was, what would be worse— her dying with or without that knowledge?

Cracking open an eye, he peered at her sleeping form. Rose Tyler, his beaming angel.

He would tell her, he resolved. One way or another.

_Ow._ Rose started and shifted her body back to its original position. For some reason, her left side hurt terribly.

What had happened? She remembered a planet, definitely, and the Doctor was there, obviously. And…there was a gun… and it had pointed at the Doctor! Her Doctor, was he alive? Did they get him, did they shoot him?

Panicking, Rose snapped her eyes open, but all she saw was a bright golden light, and she snapped them shut again and groaned. She had a raging headache. Was there even a planet and a gun? Did she just have a major hangover? She didn't remember any sort of bar, but she wouldn't if she had gotten too drunk…

"Rose?" someone asked softly to her right, and she sat up suddenly, memories rushing forward up until the harpoon had hit her in the side.

"Doctor, are you okay?" she asked urgently. "They tried to shoot you, and I jumped in the way, but…I don't remember anything after that." Suddenly, she remembered to open her eyes.

The Doctor came in focus, skinny in his brown suit, like usual, but his intelligent brown eyes were drooping slightly behind his brainy glasses. He was sitting rigid in the chair right next to her bed, and her hand was in his. His face was very close to hers, and she could almost count his freckles.

She looked more closely. His eyes were sad and tired, with little golden shimmers of hope in them. The minute she asked him where she was and what happened, his eyes brightened, his lips curved up in a smile, and he whispered "Oh, Rose," hugging her tightly.

Surprised but pleased at this sudden turn of events, she wrapped her arms around him in kind, breathing him in as he stroked the back of her head like she was a delicate child. He was shivering slightly, and his body seemed to be shaking oddly. They rocked back and forth, and she hesitantly patted his back.

He pulled back, and she was startled to see tears falling down his face. She wiped them away and pulled him in for a tighter hug, letting him cry quietly on her shoulder.

"Hey…shhh…what's wrong, Doctor, tell me what's wrong…" she murmured, shocked. The Doctor was so strong usually, and though pain crossed his face often, he hadn't yet succumbed to tears so freely in her presence.

Eventually he pulled back, calmed down.

The Doctor looked at her face as if he was memorizing every detail, and she gazed, entranced, as he put both his hands on the sides of her face.

"Rose, what do you remember?" he asked, and she racked her brain.

"I— they were going to shoot you. And I jumped in the way."

He rested his forehead on hers. "Never. Do. That. Again." He enunciated each word as if their lives depended on it. "You're brave, and you're smart, and you're _never_ going to take a bullet for me. I don't care what happens to me, but, Rose Tyler, you must stay alive. For me."

Surprised at his words, she had no choice but to nod hesitantly, and he seemed satisfied with her half-hearted response.

He grinned suddenly, jumping up like a maniac and saying, "You haven't had breakfast yet!"

"No," she agreed cautiously, startled by his mood swings. "I haven't. So?"

"So, I got you something! Weeell, I cooked you something. Weeell," he swallowed, inclining his head in a _youknowwhatImean _sort of way, "tried to cook." He held up a tray eagerly and put it on her lap, settling down to watch her. "Did you know you had to put oil in a pan before making eggs? And if you don't, the eggs stick to the pan, and it's really quite ridiculous how many pans I had to use; I mean, I didn't know we had so many…."

Stifling her laughter, she opened the tray with a straight face, grinning when she saw two eggs, sunny side up, and bacon, on her plate in the form of a big smiley face.

"Thanks," she giggled, setting to work on the food. The second she was done, he whisked away the tray and sat down in front of her with a stethoscope.

First, he checked her bandages. They were still good, and her side was fine. He prodded it gently, and nodded knowingly when she winced, proclaiming it would be sore for a while.

Then he listened to her heartbeat and probed her head with his free hand. Apparently she had hit her head rather hard when she was hit, and he was checking for any sign of swelling from the day before.

Rose's head felt fine— in fact, with the way he was gently running his hands over it, her head felt fantastic. Her heart stuttered as he smoothed down her hair, and he glanced at her sideways.

"Just…wasn't expecting that," she muttered, and he accepted it.

"Last bit," he said quietly, packing away the stethoscope. "I need to check for any sign of damage in neural relays between the brain and the body. It seems like your emotions might have some issues." She raised her eyebrows and he explained. "You hit your head, and one of the problems that come with that is a slight complication in emotional output. Like, some emotions you _should_ feel and _would_ feel are being inhibited by neural collapse or other such things."

Deciding that if he was explaining this thoroughly, it probably made sense, she nodded, and he stood up.

"The problem is that sort of emotional range is going to take a while for me to check, so living day to day life will probably do a better job at checking you up than simulation."

"Can't you just use your superior Time Lord functions to just get inside my head and see if I'm okay?"

He turned slightly red and started muttering, but she had already turned around and so he didn't need a chance to explain himself.

He stepped behind her and tapped her shoulder leaning down so that his face was right in front of hers. "What are you feeling?"

She inhaled. "Surprised."

He took her hand between both of his. "And now?"

"Very surprised. And a little confused…" she trailed off. He looked at her expectantly. "…and a little happy…" she muttered quietly.

Unsurprised, he smiled widely, dropping her hand into only one of his, and putting another to her cheek. "And now?"

"Uh, the same," she whispered slightly breathlessly. "Shock… confusion…kind of wondering what's going on and what you're planning…"

The Doctor leaned closer, his forehead touching hers, almost nose to nose with her. He opened his mouth, but she answered before he could ask. "Kind of overwhelmed," He pulled away, but she stopped him. "In a good way," she finished, searching his eyes. "Nervous…_hopeful_…"

She could see every single glimmer in his eyes, all of his eyelashes, some of them pressed against the cool glass of his spectacles. She could see little smile crinkles next to the corners of his eyes, and she could almost count his freckles. She could feel his breath on her lips and his forehead against hers, and his steady hand on her cheek. He smiled a little, and her answering smile was wider. "Just one more test, then," he said quietly, and then his lips were on hers, and her hands were in his hair, and his were on her waist, and she couldn't breathe as his frames rubbed her cheeks, but she wouldn't breathe, either, not if it meant this would have to end, because that should never, ever happen—

He pulled away suddenly, and they were only an inch apart as she tried to control her breathing and her erratic heartbeat, and he swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing desperately as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

He didn't even ask this time, and he didn't have to. "Love. Contentment. Joy," she said breathlessly, and then she looked at him appraisingly. "Anticipation."

He laughed, and he seemed sort of out of breath, too. "Rose Tyler, I pronounce this check up over," he said. "Can't promise the same for the tests…"

"Doctor, I wouldn't dream of it," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers. "One thing though," she whispered against his lips. "You did a brain scan to check that my head was okay a couple hours ago, didn't you?"

"I love you, Rose," he laughed, and she laughed right back.

"Good, cause I love you, too. Now, about that anticipation…"


End file.
